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Or very nearly. Returning to the villa after a placid morning painting in a tropical garden, I stumbled on a stair and fell on my face. The groove for the sliding front door broke my free fall, leaving a gash in my forehead as a souvenir. I blame inappropriate footwear and two bags of painting… Continue reading Paradise – lost it –

The Six Nations Rugby matches have begun, an annual competition between Ireland, Wales, England, Scotland, France, and Italy. For my US friends, Rugby is something like American football except that: You can’t pass the ball forward, you can only run forward with it; the scrimmage is called the scrummage, no protective pads, and they never stop except for an injury or penalty, which means they don’t get to rest much.

I like watching it, but found myself rooting for Wales, which my English husband wasn’t too happy about, but then, I am an inveterate cheerer for the underdog, as well as being unable to stop playing devil’s advocate. England won, but only after a very tense game.

Whichever team wins the most points in the whole series wins, so of course even if a team loses one game, they can still win. Today, Ireland beat Italy (poor old underdog), and the Irish are playing the French in Paris.

It means several days of continuous rugby in our house; in France we used to have rugby parties, like people do on Superbowl Sunday, and everyone seemed to root for a different team. No fisticuffs though, even between the Brits and the French.

(Sandy, can’t help thinking of you. You would love it. )

DML_Yuba_Rocks_Water-9.jpg | David Lovere. Exquisite, original photos by David —

The county of Herefordshire lies 2 and a half hours’ drive from Surrey, where we live, but is a world away.  The county is only 842 sq miles, with a population of 180, 000 and a population density of 0.8/hectare.   Surrey is beautiful, but a much larger county, 23, 800 sq. miles, with a population… Continue reading Hereford and beyond

Haitham, our Syrian guide, led us up to a small chapel capping the castle. Rather, it used to be a chapel and became a small mosque or prayer room after the crusaders were thrown out. Stairs led up to a platform where the Imam would have spoken, and a niche in one of the walls… Continue reading Syria and Jordan, Part 3

Before I move on to Petra and Wadi Rum, I want to tell you about some Jordanian children. I think we were inJerash, but I'm not sure. We climbed to a hilltop overlooking the ruins, when Walid called us together. A boy of about 10 stood with his armload of postcards. At a signal from… Continue reading Syria and Jordan, the end

  My son, Nathan, wrote this to his son, Nico, my first grandchild. .  It tells you a lot about both of them. (Photo:  Jurrasic Coas, Dorset, UK) Last Sunday, at a neighbor's easter egg hunt, I noticed my son Nico squatting in the planted bit of dirt between their house and a walkway to… Continue reading Ordovician observationist

I have been concentrating on oil painting lately, between life events, and am thoroughly immersed in learning to put on canvas, paper, or board what I see.  Maybe some day I'll be an artist — see the photo album, Recent Paintings.